Always for You
by SongBirdie
Summary: Their relationship was never simple, and they had just as many bad times together as good ones. Why should the three times she said "I love you", be any different? Written for the Three Times, Three Little Words challenge on NFA.


**Always for You **

**Disclaimer**: I do not own **NCIS**; it is the property of its respective creators.

_Author's notes_:

**Warning**: Character Death!

Thanks to _Augrey07_, for beta-reading this!

This story was written in response to the _Three Times Three Little Words _Challenge on NFA.

This story is from Jenny's POV throughout. Enjoy!

* * *

Paris is called many different things. "The City of Lights." "The City of Love." She had fallen in love with him as soon as she saw his eyes. They said all there was to know about him.

She had never believed in love at first sight. It seemed like a fairytale, one told to wide-eyed children, with good intentions. But it was just that; a fairytale, a myth, a legend. Those things had no place in the life she made for herself. The life she had worked her butt off for. That is, until she met him.

She lost herself in his eyes. He tore down the walls she had built around herself. And, for the first time ever, she allowed herself to dream of things she had long since ruled insignificant.

She dreamed of red-haired children, with the same blues eyes that had captivated her and never let go.

She pondered on where to hold their wedding. In a church? Outdoors? On a boat?

What color should her wedding dress be? White? Off-white? Cream?

She let herself dream in the darkness, while cradled in his arms. She let her ambitions be placed on hold. Only, when the mission was over, did she realize that this was just a dream.

Paris, lovely as it was, was just a symbol. It might stand the test of time, but they would not.

She had let herself become distracted. What she dreamed for at night, while in his embrace, was just that. It was a dream. A fairytale she had cooked up in her mind.

She tried to tell herself that she was doing the right thing. That what had happened in Paris, would stay in Paris.

She ignored the ache in her chest, the feeling of dreams being shoved into their box marked "Fantasies" in her mind, of burying the key so deep that she would never truly find it again.

In the dark of night, she slipped out of his arms, and grabbed her already packed bags. She quietly crept around in the dark, like an intruder after treasure. Only she was leaving hers behind. With her bags waiting for her at the door, her ticket home in her purse, and the letter she had written him placed on the pillow, in the same spot her head had been, she whispered her goodbyes to him, in the dead of night.

"I love you. And I'm sorry."

With a final look at his peaceful face, she slipped away, like she had never been there at all.

* * *

She sat silently in the chair by his bedside. He had shaved his head since she was last here. He looked so much more militant than she was used too. His face was tired and worn. Despair and grief were raging on his features in equal measures.

It was dark by now. The sun had long since set, and she was reminded of other nights, nights now locked away in the back of her mind. Nights she had spent trying to understand this man, now lying broken next to her, in the dark, the moon her only source of light.

She had almost dropped her cell-phone when Agent DiNozzo called her, directly, at the White House, to tell her what had happened.

His face was tightening in pain, present or past she didn't know. She took his hands in hers, and rubbed her thumbs up and down them.

He might be trapped by his mental scars, memories that were really nightmares, but, maybe, if he could focus on the feel of her hands on his, it might give him comfort.

She didn't know how she felt about Shannon and Kelly. It was like having a knife twisted around in her heart, to hear him call out for two women, one an adult, one a child, long dead.

She wanted to help him, but he had no clue who she was. Oh, bits and pieces may come to his mind, but they didn't tell the whole story. He had seen them making love, but he had no memory of the beginning, of learning to understand each other, of the middle, lazy days spent in each others arms, of the pain and betrayal of the end.

"Shannon… Shannon!"

The frantic words pieced the silence, and it was all she could do not to weep at the pain in his voice. She moved to wake him, to bring him out of the labyrinth of his memories, she really did.

"Shannon!"

She closed her eyes. She had wanted to help...

"Shh, I'm here, Jethro. I'm right here."

She kept her voice quiet, her eyes open, and tried to ignore the pain in her heart.

"Shannon…I love you."

He drifted back into unconsciousness, smiling.

She closed her eyes, again, and swallowed the sob building.

"I love you, too, Jethro. You've no idea how much."

With tears running down her face, and an old ache in her chest back in full force, she had to get out of here. She did have an agency to run, after all.

She kissed his forehead, untangled his hands from hers, and walked out the door.

As she looked back, right outside the doorway, and saw his peaceful face, she tried to tell herself that she wasn't jealous of a dead woman. She told herself that all the way back to Headquarters.

It never stopped feeling like a lie.

* * *

The blood was coming out more slowly than before. It seemed that even her blood was growing sluggish. She giggled at the thought. Could blood be sluggish? Oh, maybe blood was made of slugs. Yes, that made sense. She giggled again, and her eyes landed on Gibbs.

"Gibbs-ie! You…shouldn't be…here."

Her words were slurred; she just didn't have much strength left. He was looking at her, staring, pain, sadness and anger all competing for control of his face.

"I did…it…for you…always…for…you."

His expression didn't change. She giggled once more, and the blood oozed out even slower. She felt like she was floating, there was no more pain.

"I love…you…Jethro…always have…always will."

Tears came to her eyes.

"I loved… you…enough…to die… for you."

As her eyes locked with his, blue to green, one last time, a car could be heard in the distance.

"Always…for…you."

Jenny Shepard died looking into Leroy Jethro Gibbs' eyes. She thought it only fitting.

As Agents David and DiNozzo raced in the door, there was no trace of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He had vanished with her last breath.

**Valerie Portolano**


End file.
